


Dragonlords

by princessgrouch



Series: The Best Offence [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, M/M, Mpreg, Sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:50:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6660778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessgrouch/pseuds/princessgrouch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Last Dragonlord is out to take revenge upon the kingdom which destroyed the trust between him and the last remaining dragon.  And no court sorcerer is going to stand in his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Suprise!

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place about a year after the events in "The Best Offence".
> 
> I did not create these characters, I am not making any money off of them.

Fresh from the tavern, and stepping his way carefully into the dark caves, a sneak-thief brought news of the final piece to their puzzle to the mysterious, ominous, embittered man who had promised him great wealth. 

“It is in Camelot, in the vaults below the castle. This information cost many their lives.” He frowned, and sighed dramatically, but seconds later the sound turned to an evil laugh, of the ‘Bwahaha!” variety. “When we get it - the key - then the treasure will be ours!”

“That is where you must go,” his raggedy-looking employer said. “I cannot, for my presence will be felt.”

The other replied, “I know people there, I will easily bluff my way in. Are you certain the new sorcerer there will not see through me?”

“No. That one they call Emrys would only be able to sense magical beings. It is not him I fear. He is merely a figurehead, set up to dissuade enemies. You have no magic, and the item you are after has no greater radiance to it than any of the hundreds of other magical trinkets Uther has stolen over the last many years. Its removal will go unnoticed. Probably.”

The thief nodded, thinking to himself that he could wheedle his way into Gaius’s good graces, impress the new young king with his rhetoric and dashing good looks (apparently that was how the court sorcerer got his position), and gain enough trust to either be given access to the vaults, as an historian perhaps, or at least discover the location of the keys to the vaults. Stealing the keys after that would be a piece of cake. Then to steal the true ‘key’ that they needed. Wait...

“Who is it that you fear in Camelot, if not the king or the court sorcerer?” he asked.

The man from the caves looked back at him with haunted, hollow eyes. “Kilgarrah, the Great Dragon, who is kept in chains below the castle,” said Balinor, the Dragonlord.

*****

Merlin woke up splayed out across the big bed, bedspread down at his waist. His arms were flung at odd angles out from his body, and he stretched them languorously. Turning his head from side to side, he could see he was alone, but also that the sun was fairly high up in the sky. Flipping over, he slid from the bed and padded across the floor to his waiting breakfast, sleep-trousers riding low on his hips. Lifting the lid off his plate, he noted with a pout that someone had eaten his cornbread. Again.

Settling down in his chair, he began to munch away, wondering where his beloved prat was this morning. Nothing on the schedule of import until the afternoon, he thought. 

The door opened slowly, and a blond head appeared around it.

“Up at long last? I was beginning to wonder if I’d have to postpone the knighting ceremony until evening, to accommodate your sleep schedule,” Arthur joked, stepping up behind Merlin to place a warm kiss to his neck and to run his hands down Merlin’s lean muscled arms. Arthur loved the feel of him. Training and hard work over the past year had built up his betrothed, although Merlin would always remain slender. “Lancelot would be fine with that, and Percival, but Gwaine will never remain sober long enough, and Elyan is about to wear a trench in the floor.”

“Knights they must be; who am I to delay the inevitable?” Merlin said, pulling one of Arthur’s strong hands around to kiss his knuckles. He nipped at one of the fingers. “That’s for taking my cornbread.”

Arthur moved to sit in his own chair at the head of the table. “I have a surprise for you. But maybe you would rather I get you some more cornbread,” he said teasingly.

Merlin jumped up from his seat, and climbed into Arthur’s lap. “What is it? Tell me, tell me!” he demanded, shaking Arthur’s neck dramatically.

“Hey, whoa, whoa, watch it!” Arthur warned, as Merlin’s jostling and bouncing came too close to being painful. “If you ever want kids, that is.”

Settling down marginally, Merlin smirked, “Uther would have my head! Two weeks to go, I can hardly believe it.” Merlin was looking forward to their wedding, and to being able to finally cast the spell that would allow him to become pregnant. Once, anyway. To see how it went. “So what’d you get me?” he prompted again. He nuzzled Arthur’s cheek imploringly.

“Ow!” Arthur said, pushing him back. “Go shave; you’re all scratchy.”

“Baby,” Merlin stuck his tongue out. He climbed off and went to perform his morning ablutions.

*****

The Great Hall was filling rapidly with people coming to witness the knighting of four brave young men, all commoners. Gwaine circulated through the room, gallantly kissing the gloved hands of all the prettiest ladies, and flirting outrageously with any less comely girls who looked amazingly pretty after all with pink cheeks and bright smiles brought to their faces. Elyan was staring at the floor as he marched five paces back and forth, nattering to himself not to pass out. Percival stood stoically off to one side, where several people mistook him for a guard, and inquired as to the best spot to get a good view of proceedings.

Lance was speaking quietly with Merlin, unflappable, dependable, noble, and right now running interference for the king. His eyes were drawn to something over Merlin’s shoulder, and he smiled brightly, pausing mid-sentence.

“Excuse, me,” a woman’s voice spoke. A very familiar voice. “Could you help me locate my son?” Merlin spun in place with a wide smile of astounded delight.

“Mother! What are you doing here? How...?” he said, swinging her up and around in his arms. As he put her back down, he caught sight of Arthur, standing there beaming.

“Surprise!” Arthur said.


	2. Knights of Camelot

The ceremony was going smoothly. Arthur presided over the event, dressed in his crimson and gold finest, with Merlin looking handsome in blue and silver next to him. Geoffrey sat to one side, a feathered and bejeweled quill poised at the ready to record the names and the date for posterity. Gaius stood nearby, hands folded solemnly before him.

Uther...well. Uther was scowling at the whole celebration. He did not approve of the knighting, and while he knew he no longer held the authority of a king, he was also determined to fervently enjoy protesting every innovation. He was a happy, grumpy retired king, and he liked it that way. Nobody expected him to behave, so he didn’t. Secretly he was proud of Arthur for taking the kingdom up a notch, in directions he never dared to go. The dragon had informed him that the kingdom was destined to be far greater under Arthur’s reign than under his own. But Uther wasn’t going to let that spoil his tantrums. Or rather, fun.

Hunith was given a place near Uther at the forefront. She was starting to feel the ache in her cheeks from smiling so much. Seeing her son was delight enough, but she had gotten to know so many of the others over the last months, she was so glad to be here for this. The King had sent for her to come to Camelot a couple weeks in advance of the royal wedding as a surprise for Merlin. Sir Leon had ridden to Ealdor to accompany her safely back here, and she had been sequestered in his and Morgana’s chambers to rest and prepare for the afternoon. 

It was four months now since Hunith’d been here for Leon and Morgana’s wedding. They looked bright and joyful still today, on top of their world. Hunith wished nothing but the best for them. Morgana had been studying magic with Gaius and Merlin, delving into volumes of magical text, and examining magical artifacts that were kept safely hidden. Morgana was a natural at magic, and while she would never attain Merlin’s ability (because he improved by leaps and bounds, while she struggled to master every small spell) you could tell working magic openly was a great relief to her. She no longer suffered from nightmares, but occasionally had strong premonitions. She was always happy to take positive action about something, to feel she had influence over the outcome.

Hunith surreptitiously wiped a tear from her eye, as Elyan was knighted first. Gwen’s brother had been tracked down when his father had taken ill and was not expected to live. The trauma had sobered the lad, and he had hitched his wagon to a brighter star. Now his father Tom stood proudly next to Hunith, hale and hearty once again, watching as his son became a knight of Camelot. Hunith patted his arm and gave him a watery smile.

Next was Percival. He had been instrumental in tweaking the knight’s code to its present form. A knight should protect the weak, fight injustice, be loyal and true, honour women. Percy was all muscle, and a formidable foe, but tenderhearted; a gentle giant. He was still tall kneeling down, Hunith noted.

Hunith knew Percival had fled to Camelot with his friend Lancelot when his own home had been destroyed, and the two had had aspirations of becoming knights. Arthur had trained them and taken them on campaigns long before becoming king. Uther had stewed about it, but did nothing to stop it. Lancelot was Merlin’s best friend, and Hunith remained incredulous that her sweet boy was held in such high esteem by the former King Uther that he would ignore his own laws.

Now Lancelot was being knighted, and Hunith’s eyes drifted over to watch Gwen’s face, on the other side of her father. Arthur had hinted that a romance was budding between Morgana's servant and the young man, and seeing the adoring look on Gwen’s face, Hunith didn’t doubt it.

Now it was Gwaine’s turn to be knighted. It was at Leon and Morgana’s wedding that she had made the acquaintance of Gwaine. He had been quite drunk following the reception, and had serenaded her loudly and off key for a considerable (painful) while, until Arthur had suggested he could easily be put on night patrol RIGHT NOW. He had wandered off to proposition an empty suit of armor in the corridor.

Gwaine was Merlin’s oft-time partner in crime. The shenanigans those two got up to, Arthur said, nearly drove him insane. He had taken to visiting the Great Dragon below the castle, whenever Merlin and Gwaine headed for the tavern. Although everyone knew Merlin didn’t drink a whole lot, Gwaine more than made up for it, and generally landed the both of them in the midst of a brawl. Whether it was gambling, flirting with married women, offering unwanted advice, or just plain insulting the nearest ugly mug, Gwaine was a fount of bad judgement when drunk. But he did have great hair. He was also the best knight next to Arthur that there ever was. And the most fun, Merlin would swear.

The king began his final words to the new knights and to the crowd. Arthur. Hunith took in the sight of him. She had met him back when Kanen’s thugs had been intimidating Ealdor's residents and taking their food. Hunith had come to Camelot to see if King Uther would send aid, and she understood the former king’s reluctance to risk a war with the neighboring kingdom. She had not, however, realized the extent of her son’s ‘friendship’ with the prince until Arthur had returned to Ealdor with Merlin, along with Morgana and Guinevere. Merlin had written precious little of the truth in his letters, ostensibly for fear of the information falling into enemy hands, but as they journeyed back to Ealdor, he had confided in her that not only did Arthur know about his magic, so did most of the court including King Uther! And even without his stammered confession of how much in love he was with the prince, she could see their hearts on their sleeves and she knew her son had found his life’s partner.

Hunith mused once more on Arthur’s predilection for keeping company with the dragon. Arthur said Kilgarrah amused him, with his zany stories and skewed opinions about everything and everyone. You couldn’t take him seriously, though, Arthur said. He was just some sort of crazy pet. A very large pet that ate a lot.

Hunith personally knew the Dragonlord who had lured the dragon there, of course, but she kept that to herself. Who knew if he was even alive anymore, and there was no need to stir up things best left in the past. Hunith shook herself out of her reverie; the ceremony was finished, and she joined the crowd as they began to applaud.


	3. Julius Borden Comes to Town

It was a clear morning, and the day was shaping up to be a good one. A victorious one. Balinor had traveled with Julius Borden to what he deemed a safe proximity to Camelot and to the Great Dragon, just out of potential sensory range in the Darkling Woods. There he would camp out until Borden completed his mission.

“I doubt Kilgarrah is even able to sense anything any longer. He’s been cut off and left alone for some twenty years. It is likely he is a mere shell of his former self,” he told Borden. 

“And this kaeo mangkon which I secured for you is sufficient a peace offering to calm the dragon? I will be risking my life,” Borden asked for reassurance yet again. This was dangerous, but if he succeeded, he would be as rich as a king.

“Indeed the dragon crystal will work, for its scent and power will revive Kilgarrah, and open his mind once more for seeing into the future. He has had no access to this fruit while in captivity, and his gratitude will be such that he will trust me once again.” Dragon crystal was found far across the seas, and completely unknown in Albion.

It was Balinor’s intention that Borden use the magical key from Camelot’s vaults to unlock the shackle clamped around Kilgarrah’s leg. With his liberation, and the intoxicating and soothing scent of the dragon crystal, Kilgarrah would certainly be convinced to trust the Dragonlord again. Hopefully Borden wouldn’t get eaten.

That was the plan. In the month since Uther’s son Arthur had ascended the throne, magic had been legalized, and Balinor saw an opportunity he never would have imagined. As soon as Balinor would have the Great Dragon under his control, the young King Arthur would see in an instant the advantages of having a Powerful Dragonlord as his chief advisor and Court Sorcerer. Balinor would be magnificent, and everyone would stand in awe of him. He would prove himself benevolent and trustworthy, be the good man he had once aspired to be.

The fact that there was already a court sorcerer in Camelot? Of no consequence. No namby-pamby provincial boy showing off his petty magic to awe the king would stand a chance when compared with him. 'The Prophecy of Emrys'? Balinor snorted. The druids had always had a tendency to blow things out of proportion.

And he would then seek out news of his long-lost love, Hunith. Quietly, just to find out. She had likely married, and would not have spared him a thought over the two decades that had passed. But, just maybe she was free, and upon seeing his bravery and his care for the people of the land, she would be favorably inclined to accept him as a suitor.

Enough daydreams; he sensed that Julius was entering Camelot. That man had better be as good as he claimed. The thief had been easily hooked in by the promise of a dragon’s hoard, of dragon treasure, gold and jewels galore. Actually, Balinor had no idea if Kilgarrah had any such hoard, but Julius believed the old wives tales, and was as frenzied as a goblin about it.

*****

Merlin had NOT had anything to drink last night at the feast. He had designated himself responsible to steer every one of his friends home safely. Arthur had not been easy to deal with all evening. For some reason he determined that tickling Merlin to make him shriek was hysterically funny, and he had kept it up even as Merlin dragged his wobbly king back to their rooms in the early hours of the morning.

This morning Merlin was ferrying headache cures hither, thither and yon, to various grouchy, cringing nobles, knights, and prats. Gaius was moving at a snail’s pace, complaining that the sun was hurting his head, so it fell to Merlin to run himself ragged. He donned some old clothes for the work of preparing the smelly concoction under Gaius’s grumpy direction, and then ran about the castle distributing the vile stuff.

He was dragging himself back to Gaius’s for another batch, several guards having whimpered pitifully to him about how poorly they felt, when he was waylaid by a man Merlin had never seen before.

“Pardon me, boy, but could you direct me to the Court Physician’s chambers? I am an old friend of his.” Merlin slowly looked the man up and down, who frowned back at the dirty, sweaty, rude peasant before him. “I mean NOW, boy, if you know what’s good for you.”

Merlin had had enough. Everyone was grousing at him for no good reason this morning!

“Down there, to the left, up the first flight of stairs, and it will be the second door on your right,” he said with a tone of mock humility. "You'll have to knock loudly." The man, fortunately, didn’t pick up on his ‘attitude’, and marched off with a scowl. “That’ll learn him,” thought Merlin, just hoping Arthur was still REALLY cranky when the man arrived at his door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaeo mangkon seemed like a logical choice for dragon-catnip, although no actual scientific studies have been done to determine its affect on real dragons. It also goes by the name of dragon crystal, or dragon fruit.


	4. Merlin Needs TLC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING for some bullying.

Merlin was too tired to think anymore. He was smelly, dirty, frustrated, and had a nasty crick in his neck. If there was anyone who HADN’T gotten the headache remedy, he didn’t know who. All he wanted now was a little loving from his darling prat. Arthur would ‘kiss it better’.

Arthur and the stranger from earlier were just coming out into the courtyard, heading toward Gaius’s quarters, when Merlin spotted them. The man had a hand on Arthur’s arm, and Arthur was smiling back at him as the man was gesturing with his other hand.

“...as well as your brilliance at defeating the undead knights of Medhir. I have heard such epic ballads as far as the shores of the Western Isles,” he was proclaiming loudly. Arthur caught sight of Merlin and called him over. Rather unfortunate was his choice of words:

“Hey, idiot, get over here,” Arthur called. Julius Borden narrowed his eyes shrewdly.

“That is the insolent knave that misdirected me,” Julius said. The king had called him an idiot, so he knew he had the right impression.

“Why am I not surprised?” said Arthur. Merlin regarded the familiar way Julius was hovering over HIS lover, and he began to seethe.

“You think you can just waltz in here and be all like, ooh, look at me, I’m so wonderful. Sucking up to the king, you have no business...why don’t you get lost?” Merlin was tired, and not very clever with his words, but the jeering sarcasm was crystal clear.

Arthur, naturally, replied with, “What’s got into you? Stop this right now. This is our guest, Gaius’s old friend. Show some proper respect!”

“Yes indeed, you prepubescent waif, you pig-slop, you dog’s dung, I should grind you into the ground with the heel of my boot, you insignificant waste of space.” Julius really went to town, in keeping with what he perceived to be Arthur’s tone. He gave Merlin a rough shove, and Merlin fell to the ground, and promptly began to wail when he skinned his hands. Tears overflowed and ran streaming down his face.

“GUARDS!” called Arthur.

Moments later, a confounded Julius Borden was being dragged off, catching a glimpse of the King of Camelot kneeling beside the peasant boy and locking him in an ardent embrace, pressing tender soothing kisses to his cheeks. Well, of all things...! Who would have known the King had taken a scruffy male plebeian as his lover? Now that Julius knew, he would atone brilliantly for his mistake, of course. As soon as he was let out of the stocks.

*****

“Are you okay, Merls? Let me see your hands,” Arthur crooned to his darling other half. “You look exhausted, let’s take you up and get you a bath.”

“I AM exhausted,” Merlin sniffed, pouting. “I was up running around ALL morning, and everyone was snapping at me, and that...that MAN had his hands all over you, and...and...”

Arthur led him indoors, and ordered his bath. Before long, he was easing his precious sweetheart into the warm water, and began cleaning his scraped hands lovingly. He moved on to washing and massaging Merlin’s shoulders and back, and reached around to do his chest.

“ _Merrrrrr_ -lin!” Arthur beseeched, leaning in enticingly. “Mooove over, I want to get in _tooooo_...” He doffed his clothes, and slid into the tub, the fingers of one hand tangling in the other man’s dark hair. He pulled him close with his other arm and mouthed his way along Merlin’s jaw until he reached his lips and licked his way inside.

“Nnnngh,” said Merlin, sighing in pleasure. His eyes fluttered shut and he sunk into Arthur’s arms.

**HELP! *** HELP!**

Merlin’s eyes flew open, alarmed.

“What? What is it?” Arthur asked urgently, recognizing the signs of his sorcerer on high alert.

“It’s Kilgarrah. He’s in danger!” Merlin gasped. The call he heard in his head was very panicky. Arthur leaned his forehead against Merlin’s for a second, in frustration. Couldn’t they get a break?

“Let’s go,” Arthur gave in resignedly, and he climbed quickly out of the tub, turning to offer Merlin a hand in getting out. They dried hurriedly, and got dressed, Merlin pulling out some fresh clothes for himself. Arthur grabbed his sword.

Merlin may have been peeved that the dragon had spoiled his bath games, but he recognized the urgency inherent in the very fact that Kilgarrah was distressed. They headed for the cavern with all due haste. Anything that would terrify the Great Dragon must be truly horrific, and Merlin knew Arthur was rather fond of the beast. And Uther adored Kilgarrah.

Merlin, for his part, barely tolerated the ranting creature, and had on more than one occasion scolded it for manipulating half of Camelot. That was before he had put restrictions on the traffic to and from the caves below the castle. Now the dragon mostly just fed his gibberish to Uther, whose subsequent proclamations of impending doom were largely ignored anyway.

Kilgarrah voice boomed up the stairs as they descended.

“Merlin! They’re trying to kidnap me! Save me, save me!” Merlin and the king rushed into the cave. The two looked about for the danger. Arthur pointed his sword this way and that. “Well, they’re COMING, anyway; I feel it in my bones,” Kilgarrah amended.

“Who? Who is coming?!” Merlin bellowed back at him, chagrined. “We hustled down here because you were in peril. So we thought.” Merlin gave him a reproachful look.

“It’s that horrid old Dragonlord Balinor who got me trapped here in the first place,” fussed Kilgarrah. "I don’t trust him. He’s up to no good. He’s coming to STEAL me!”

“Huh?” Arthur interrupted. “How can anyone ‘steal’ a dragon? What is a _dragonlord_ , anyway?”

Kilgarrah explained that the dragonlords were sorcerers to whom dragons had always been bound from the dawn of time. They were permitted to select their masters, and had to pledge their fealty in return for having their offspring hatched by the dragonlord. The eggs would not hatch without a dragonlord’s call; this was the only way they would ever be born.

“And...” Kilgarrah paused for dramatic effect, “I have an egg. It has been placed In the tomb of Ashkanar. Balinor must not gain access to it,” he cautioned.

“But how can we stop him, if he is your master?” Arthur queried. Kilgarrah got that secretive look that Merlin didn’t trust, and drew his head up to speak.

“I will choose a new master,” he stated. “It only needs to be a greater sorcerer than the one I am renouncing.” He looked at Merlin. “I hereby declare Merlin Emrys ‘Dragonlord’, and my sovereign.” Staring at Merlin for a moment, he then whispered, “Come here, I have to breathe on you.”

“What? No way!” Merlin took a step back, instead.

“Aw, do it, Merlin. You’re immortal, anyway, so what could it hurt?” Merlin lifted his scraped palms to show to Arthur.

“It could hurt,” he stated. “That’s why.”

“I have no intention of damaging you,” Kilgarrah said contritely, his head lowering in a submissive posture. “And when you have been forged in my breath, I will be compelled to obey your every command, so it will be safe to set me free.”

“Oh, ho, then absolutely bloody well not!” Merlin exclaimed. Arthur nudged his shoulder.

“ _Mer_ lin, maybe he’s telling the truth,” Arthur pleaded on behalf of his pet dragon.

“He IS telling the truth,” sounded the voice of Uther Pendragon from the doorway. He had been on his way down to chat with his old pal when he overheard the conversation. Now he stepped into the cave behind them. “I had thought all the dragonlords to be deceased, but I believe Kilgarrah when he says his master still lives. Balinor would like nothing better than to see all of Camelot destroyed by dragon-fire.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, and glared at Arthur. Arthur glared back, and then he made a sad puppy dog face.

“Don’t do it for Kilgarrah, do it for Camelot. The people. All the innocent, defenseless people. The CHILDREN. You have sworn to protect them with your life,” Arthur begged. Merlin let out his breath in a frustrated whoosh, and smacked his forehead down onto the heel of his hand. He shook his head in defeat.

“For the record, this is a bad idea,” he said. Uther perked up at Merlin’s surrender.

“I’ll get the key!” Uther said, and dashed out the door. His head popped back in a moment later, and he added, “Make certain you warn him severely NEVER to harm Camelot or its people. Just eat...deer...and wild boar...FAR away, not to deplete our woods of game!” – and he was off and away back up the stairs.

Arthur and Merlin regarded each other, neither daring to suggest that maybe Uther wasn’t as lucid as he used to be. Merlin shrugged, and taking a deep breath, stepped forward. He balked momentarily when at the same time Arthur took a step or two back.

Kilgarrah’s neck undulated and he blew a long steady breath of warm dragon-air over Merlin. The warlock felt some ancient force filling him, words in an unknown tongue unfurling in his brain, as Kilgarrah bound his will to Merlin’s. Finishing, Kilgarrah declared Merlin now to be Dragonlord, and his Master.

“I will bow to your will alone. You and the _child you carry_ , since I have breathed on him as well,” concluded Kilgarrah.


	5. Be Careful What You Say

“WHAT?” squeaked Merlin. Arthur just stood there with his jaw hanging down. “Am I...? Are you saying...? WHAT? How did this happen?”

“Well, let me explain how it happens. First you probably...” began Kilgarrah, when Arthur hurriedly interrupted.

“Never mind that, we know ‘how’, just not ‘why’.” Arthur frowned and gave Merlin a pointed look. “”What did you do, Merlin?”

“Me? I...nothing...I just, well, maybe I was thinking a little bit about the spell, you know, for after we get married, and when I should say it, you know, while we...and then...OH!” He smiled brightly at Arthur, changing the subject. “Won’t Uther be ecstatic!” The king glared at him, not to be distracted from the topic at hand.

“You... we are pregnant?” he said. He blinked, as the reality of it sunk in. “We’re going to be parents, we’re going to have a baby! Huh!” Their eyes met, then as mirror images, joy spread over their faces. Arthur and Merlin simultaneously flung their arms around each other and whooped with glee.

“I cannot wait to tell Uther!” Kilgarrah spoke up. “It’s practically all he ever talks about; _I’m going to be a grandfather, when is it going to happen, how many, what will their names be, how soon, grandchildren this and grandchildren that_. As soon as he gets back here with my key, I’ll let him know!”

In chorus, the two men shouted, “No!”

“You are forbidden to tell Uther about this,” Merlin ordered. “I want to let it sink in, first...”

“Pretty sure that’s what happened first,” muttered Kilgarrah. Arthur turned his face away to smirk secretly. Merlin scowled.

“And then I want to tell my mother, preferably before she hears it in castle gossip,” said Merlin.

“And _**I**   _get to tell my father,” said Arthur, arching an eyebrow sternly.

“Exactly,” said Merlin. “So you will keep your dragon lips sealed on this subject, agreed?”

“As you command, so will I do.” Kilgarrah bowed his head in obeisance.

“No wonder you’ve been so weepy and clingy. You’re acting just like a girl. A pregnant girl,” said Arthur, staring at Merlin ponderously. Merlin swatted at Arthur for that insult, but really was too astonished and amazed to put any backbone into it.

*****

By the time Uther arrived back with the key, Arthur and Merlin had settled themselves down against the wall of the cave and were planning out the rescue of Kilgarrah’s egg.

“So we’ll send Morgana and Leon to the Druids, to ask Iseldor for the Triskelion that unlocks the tomb,” Arthur was saying. “And the knights and I will go to retrieve it.”

“I don’t see why I can’t come,” Merlin complained.  Arthur gave a slight tilt of his head towards his father and raised his brows in warning.

“Remember,” he stressed, “you have to practice speaking in dragon-tongue, and learn the proper incantations to call forth the baby dragon.” Arthur gave Merlin a serious look. “AND you need to protect Camelot in case the other dragonlord attacks. That requires a potent sorcerer, and you know it.”

“Ah,” broke in Uther, “about all that. I may have secured one portion of the Triskelion in the vaults. It was not easy to come by, but I didn’t want to see yet another dragon terrorizing the land.” He pursed his lips in reproof at Kilgarrah, who looked shocked that someone might suspect him of doing such a thing. “And, here is the key.” The dragon perked up his head and looked at Merlin expectantly.

“Not just yet.  I haven’t figured out how this is going to work, where you’re going to go, and how to call you back when I need you,” Merlin told the dragon decidedly. “Never mind keeping it all a secret from the dragonlord Balinor.” Promising Kilgarrah they would be quick about it, they headed off to set the plan in motion. Uther handed the key to Merlin for safekeeping in the interim.

*****

And so it transpired that Morgana and Leon were brought up to speed and duly dispatched. Merlin had conveniently projected their request in advance to the druids mentally. Subsequently, Iseldor was able to meet them halfway with the Triskelion, and they returned with it promptly. Uther had located the third piece of the Triskelion and presented it to Arthur. Everything was going smoothly; all looked well.

As the four new knights prepared to depart for Ashkanar with their king, Arthur chanced to remember the man in the stocks, and sent a pair of guards to release Julius Borden. As Arthur and the knights rode off through the gates, he spared Borden no other thought.

Balinor was biding his time in the Darkling Woods, awaiting word from Borden, whom he could sense was yet unremitting in his efforts within the walls of Camelot. Julius had worked out a new scheme. He located Merlin.

”Hello there, my boy,” he smiled congenially at him. “SO sorry we got off to a rocky start.” He chuckled, and leaned in conspiratorially. “But I do intend to make amends.” Merlin drew back warily.  Borden had bits of tomato glued to his clothes, and carrot peelings in his hair.  Even apart from that, he still had an air of rottenness.

“What do you want?” he said suspiciously. This was supposedly Gaius’s friend. He supposed he should make an effort to be pleasant. And he didn’t want any trouble while Arthur was away rescuing the egg. Still, the man was creeping him out.

“I happen to know of the location of treasure beyond your wildest dreams, such that would make you as wealthy a man as the very illustrious King of Camelot!” He smiled secretively. “This treasure belongs to no man, and I, Julius Borden, have the clue as to its whereabouts. I beg you for your assistance in retrieving it, in return for which I will share a portion with you. Think of it, gold, jewels, all you could ever dream of!”

Merlin was trying to figure out what he was up to, and asked, “What is this ‘clue’ you speak of? How can I be of assistance?”

“Ah!” Julius was smug that he was beginning to get the boy’s cooperation. “I think if you will conduct me to my old mentor Gaius, we shall soon have access to the next clue.” Merlin shrugged, and nodded in agreement. He led the way to the physician’s quarters, cautious but curious.

Giaus looked thunderous at the sight of Borden. “You! I hoped never to see your face again. What business do you have in Camelot?”

“Come now, dear old friend, I have changed my ways,” Julius said sweetly. Merlin snorted. “I bring greetings from an old acquaintance of yours. Balinor.” Merlin practically choked on his tongue.

For some reason, so did Gaius.

“Could I speak to you a moment, Gaius?” Merlin asked innocently. He dragged him up to the store room, and shut the door behind them. “This man is trying to set Kilgarrah loose on Camelot, to burn it down, and destroy the kingdom. He must be stopped!”

Gaius was the epitome of outraged. "I guessed Borden would be up to no good. Changed, my foot!" He strode out of the store room.

Julius looked politely at Gaius, who walked right past him, not even giving him a glance. Julius then looked impatiently at Merlin. What lies was that numbskull telling now?

Gaius opened the door, and hollered out, “GUARDS!”

The dungeons were quite roomy, really, and the straw on the floor was fresh and clean. Julius sighed. Balinor would have to wait a bit longer.


	6. Great Egg-Spectations

Making their way through the woods, Arthur and his knights were discussing the likelihood there would be hidden dangers in securing the egg. No one knew much about the legends regarding the king Ashkanar, only that he had lived some 400 years earlier, and had protected and concealed the egg. They speculated about whether Kilgarrah was actually that old, or that he was merely claiming the egg for his own since there were no other remaining dragons to challenge him for it. 

A rough canyon broke across the woods before them, a steep canyon with trees hanging precariously off the edges. Scoping back and forth, Gwaine was able to spot a potential way down, and they dismounted to lead their horses carefully over the side. Indeed there was a crevasse sloping sideways along the chasm’s wall, and they picked their way down slowly.

“Careful, rough patch here,” called back Lancelot, at the lead.

“Oops, sorry about that,” yelled out Percival at the rear, as he dislodged some loose rocks and dirt and sent them rolling and sliding down upon those in front of him.

Once at the base, they splashed their way across the boulder-treacherous stream, careful that their steeds not twist a foot between the irregular rocks. The far side of the chasm was smoother, much of it overgrown with moss and shrubs, and they ascended once more into the daylight. Remounting, they resignedly pushed on despite the slow drizzle now dousing them and trickling down their necks. 

The group came out of the forest at last, and had a view down a broad field to the mausoleum. It appeared ancient but was yet standing tall, an isolated tower, the brownish-grey stone overcome by vines and surrounded closely on all sides by briers and dead trees. They tied up the horses and picking their way over, they began to circle the structure, trying to see an entrance. 

“Here!” Again, Gwaine’s eagle eyesight spotted a variation in the base of the tomb, and it was exactly what they had been searching out: a narrow dark entryway mostly covered by creepers which they quickly cleared with their swords.

Percival was left to stand as lookout because he would not fit, and the four others slid and scraped their way sideways through the opening. Narrow steps cut in stone went up around the circumference of the wall, and they trod careful not to stir up the dust. Elyan covered his mouth with his kerchief, coughing some at the must and mildew scent. He suffered from occasional breathing problems, and had to take precautions. Arthur looked at him enquiringly, but he nodded he was good to go on.

Up and up, round and round, no sound but the four of them shuffling and scraping their way. At the fifth pass around, the stairway ascended through an opening, and they could step onto a floor. Ahead was a thick stone door, and the sunk-in symbol on it was familiar. Arthur pulled out the Triskelion, and walked forward.

“Wait. If there is a trap...” cautioned Lancelot. Elyan shrugged, and Arthur looked about carefully. There was nothing to indicate what might happen. He put the Triskelion in place and gave it a push. Gave it a turn. It spun and sunk into the door, which gave way. Cautiously, they peered into the little entryway beyond. Steps at the far side led up to another small chamber.

Just about to make their way over to it, they were enveloped by a thick smoke. Elyan, a cloth already over his face for the dust, hurriedly pulled the others on up the steps and into the little room, and pushed the door shut. Choking, the others gasped for breath, and leaned hard against the walls while they recovered from whatever poisonous fumes had been released. Presently they were able to take stock of their surroundings. A grey stone room. Grey walls and floor, dank stone and ancient dust. 

In the center of the room nestled upon a pedestal was a large oblong bluish grey egg. The dragon egg. Together and in awe they approached it. Arthur reached to lift it down from its resting place.

“Wait. Again, a trap?” Lancelot did not hesitate to say. Arthur paused to consider carefully.

“Elyan, check if the smoke in the outer chamber has dissipated. Gwaine, when we take the egg, you two need to be halfway down the stairs, and don’t stop. Lancelot will bring the egg, and I will follow him out. Take Percival and make for the woods with all haste, and don’t look back.”

“Sire, if I might...” started Gwaine, but Arthur interrupted him.

“I will be the last to leave, and that’s final,” Arthur said, knowing his knight and all his arguments. Gwaine nodded though he wasn’t happy about it. Kings and their being noble!

It happened that the old King Ashkanar had set the tomb to fall if any man disturbed the egg. Disturbed it was, and on this day there were four knights to be seen bursting out of the tomb and yelling at a fifth to RUN, RUN as it began to crash and crumble down to rubble and dust.

Lancelot bore the egg.

Lancelot was entrusted with carrying the egg all the return trip to Camelot. He tucked it neatly in his bag, a soft blanket wrapped securely around it. He rode silently and solemnly at the center of the group. He had the air of one satisfied with a mission accomplished.

Gwaine and Percival brought up the rear, Gwaine telling some bawdy tale and gesturing widely, as Percival grinned while at the same time scanning the forest around them for dangers. All seemed quiet, and the sun had come out once again. Still, always best to stay on the alert.

Elyan and Arthur led the way, discussing possible uses for dragons in general, if one was not merely using them as a weapon of war. 

“Rescue, transportation of the wounded,” said Elyan.

“Border patrols. They could carry someone,” suggested Arthur.

“Really? Ride a dragon?” Elyan considered it. “All right then, I volunteer.”

“Ha ha, no doubt!” rejoined Arthur. “How about clearing land for crops, pulling out trees and carrying off boulders?”

“Messenger. Carrying dispatches. Transporting supplies. Or ambassadors.” Elyan was clearly still thinking of riding a dragon. Arthur chuckled, and urged his horse more quickly onwards as the turrets of his castle came into view. Nearly time to hatch a new dragon. He anticipated the look on Merlin's face.

****

Uther was currently meeting with his chief smugglers, Tristan and Isolde, who included Camelot’s former king in their list of loyal customers. They had some precious cargo, spices from the far east for the kitchens, oranges for his private larder, fragrant oils and perfumes and silks for Morgana, and a rare Kaeo Mangkon that they occasionally were able to acquire for him to give to Kilgarrah. It pleased him to see the dragon so obviously delighted by the fruit that Uther asked for it specifically. Kilgarrah was always more prescient when he’d had some of it, and Uther surely liked hearing the prophetic news.

“We had two,” Isolde explained concerning the fruit, “but a thief by the name of Borden slipped a poison to one of our men and made off with one. He professed to be joining our team, and he seemed knowledgeable about the work. No honor among thieves, eh?”

“Funny that was the only thing he stole, though,” added Tristan, as they nodded farewell to Uther and disappeared back into the woods. 

The rescue party had just returned, Uther saw. He hurried forth to join the conversation. 

“I think Merlin should release Kilgarrah, and have him meet us in the clearing just beyond Camelot to the northwest,” said Arthur.

“Oh, here, take him this – he loves this,” Uther spoke up, thrusting the Kaeo Mangkon into Merlin’s hands. Merlin took the fruit, put it in his pocket and took out the enchanted key. Taking deep steadying breaths, he made his way down to Kilgarrah. The dragon was beside himself with excitement.

“Remember, no eating or burning or harming any people or buildings or animals or forests or fields or anything pertaining to Camelot or Albion or...” Merlin tried to list everything he could possibly think of. How many ways this could go wrong!

“I will honour you with my behaviour, of course; we are kin now,” said Kilgarrah respectfully. “You need not fear I would risk your displeasure.” Merlin climbed carefully down to the rocky base of the dragon’s central perch, and Kilgarrah stretched out his leg for Merlin to reach. Click! And the shackle fell away. The Great Dragon was free.

“We will meet just to the northwest of the city, in the clearing there," Merlin said, being sure to speak authoritatively. "I will be there shortly. Arthur and the others will be there already. They have the egg. Your egg.” With a nod, Merlin scrambled up and back out of the cave, as Kilgarrah stretched his freed foot every which way to test things out. He suddenly shot off the rock for the exit opening that led to daylight. He was out of there. At last.

Merlin arrived panting in the clearing where the others had gathered. Leon and Morgana had hastened to join them as well. Kilgarrah had obediently flown directly there and was now backwinging in the air as he came in for a landing. Together they watched gravely as Lancelot unwrapped the egg. It was glossy, magical, beautiful.

“In order to hatch the egg, you must name the dragon,” Kilgarrah told Merlin.

Merlin closed his eyes and concentrated. Inspiration overtook him as his eyes turned and twitched under the lids. A guttural sound spewed out of his mouth, and he uttered a single word.

“AI - THU – SA,” Merlin intoned. He opened his eyes to see what would happen. The egg stirred. A fine crack appeared down the side. Other cracks spread from it. A noise not unlike peeping came from within. All at once, the top portion of the egg flipped away, and a delicate reptile head poked up. A little white head, all knobbly and sparkly in the daylight. It chirped, and the onlookers AWW’d together.

“White dragons are rare and portend a time of great peace and prosperity in the land,” said Kilgarrah with pride. “My offspring; I am no longer alone.”

Merlin lifted the small creature out of the remaining shell with shaking hands. Everyone leaned in to smile in delight at Aithusa. He chirruped again, and took off with a few tentative flaps, to land not two seconds later on Uther's front. Uther looked astounded, then pleased. He put a hand up to stroke the delicate new dragon. The little white baby clung so sweetly to him.

“Looks like he thinks you’re his grandfather,” laughed Kilgarrah uproariously. Uther had been looking down nearly cross-eyed at the baby dragon, pleased by its attentions. He was NOT pleased by Kilgarrah’s words.

“I am NOT its grandfather!” he protested. Aithusa squawked and everyone laughed.


	7. Dragonlords

From his vantage point in the Darkling Woods, Balinor could easily recognize the silhouette of the dragon as it landed in the field nearby. He supposed someone was attempting to control Kilgarrah, that the dragon must be truly out of its mind to follow anyone’s orders. It had been so long.

Balinor had been young and over-confident. He was new to being a dragonlord when his father had died, and he felt overwhelmed by the thrill of commanding such a great creature as Kilgarrah. Also, the magic in him was amplified by his connection to the dragon. 

He truly thought the world could be remade into an utopia, that there would be peace. No evil could befall the land while the dragons and dragonlords reigned supreme. That dream was never realized. The slaughter when it came was inconceivable. Several dragonlords were betrayed, the rest hunted down relentlessly. Dragons were pursued and killed with their own forged weapons.

When the summons came from King Uther, a plea to negotiate an end to the bloodshed, Balinor wanted to believe it was possible. He saw himself as being the ONE, the catalyst, the means to reconciliation. He called Kilgarrah, and they went in together. Next thing he knew, he was on the run and his dragon was a captive, a trophy for the king whose treasury held stolen glories and vanquished freedoms.

He had hidden in the village of Ealdor, just across the border. Hunith had been a pupil of Gaius’s, learning to be a midwife for her village. Gaius had been a friend, but Balinor was so disillusioned he couldn’t stay in Ealdor for an extended period for fear of another betrayal. When the patrols came searching for him, he had already left. He never went back. The last twenty years he kept his own company in the caves, venturing forth rarely, serving his own penance equal to the captivity Kilgarrah faced.

Now that Kilgarrah had been liberated in some unknown capacity, and now that Balinor was older and smarter, fate was in the dragonlord’s hands. Julius Borden seemed to have been swallowed up by the earth; Balinor could no longer sense his whereabouts. Everything rested on him now. Balinor prepared himself to go and get his dragon back.

*****

Gaius patted Hunith’s shoulder in attempt to steady her. The news that Balinor was somewhere out there, perhaps close at hand, had unnerved her. She thought life was going smoothly, her son would marry soon, she’d finish the year out in Ealdor as the last couple of babies were born before her apprentice took over. Then she would permanently relocate to Camelot in anticipation of helping her own grandbabies into the world someday, hopefully. 

Speculating about Merlin’s father, the man she had known for a handful of weeks, was futile. What would she say to Merlin? The past was gone, and the present was...complicated. Where would this man fit in? Gaius seemed to think Balinor had been keeping company with a criminal, and had some nefarious purpose in coming to Camelot. Probably involving the Great Dragon. Hunith had not met the dragon, and it was not something she looked forward to.

“I need to talk to Merlin,” she told Gaius. “Explain things. What shall I say?” After all, she had never talked about Merlin’s father before, and it was overdue. But very, very distressing to contemplate. Together, Hunith and Gaius went out to find her son and break the news.

Outside, there seemed to be quite the commotion. A company consisting of the King, the Court Sorcerer, the former king, and Morgana had just entered through the gates. Uther had what appeared to be a white baby dragon in his arms.

“People, everything is under control. Do not fear. The Court Sorcerer Merlin has power over dragons and they will do us no harm.” Arthur shouted loudly. The knights had taken the message to all and sundry in the town that dragons would now be a component of Camelot’s magical protection. Even here in the courtyard quite a curious crowd was surging close to see the little dragon.

“Good thing Kilgarrah is keeping out of sight,” whispered Merlin to Arthur. “Let them get acquainted with Aithusa first.”

“Seriously, you think they’ll EVER be ready to see Kilgarrah up close?” Arthur knocked shoulders with Merlin. Morgana gave the both of them an incredulous look.

“Boys, boys, may I remind you most of these people have been visiting Kilgarrah regularly anyway. They may be startled to see him free, but they certainly won’t be terrified.” Morgana turned to Uther. “May I carry him for a bit?” Uther looked like he might object, but then Aithusa launched himself off of Uther, flapped awkwardly to the ground and hopped over to Morgana, trilling up at her endearingly. The crowd ooohed and awwed, even as Uther pouted a bit. Morgana scooped Aithusa up, and talking to him in a low voice she headed up the steps leading into the castle.

Merlin and Arthur exchanged looks and made to hurry off after her. Everyone wanted THEIR dragon; Arthur had fetched it, Merlin had hatched it, Uther had misappropriated it, and now Morgana had purloined it. The only one who didn’t seem to care what they did with it was Kilgarrah!

“Morgana, wait a minute,” Arthur called.

“Merlin!” said Hunith solemnly and gravely at that moment. “I must speak to you.” Merlin and Arthur stopped and turned to her. Gaius was at her side, looking very serious about something. Arthur tucked an arm around Merlin’s waist, figuring a little support might be needed, judging from the look on their faces. Morgana halted on the steps and looked back in concern.

And a tall man with a scruffy worn-out appearance strode into the courtyard and bellowed at the top of his lungs.

“Éla se ména to paidí mou. Eímai kyriarcheíte. Eísai drákos mou.”

Aithusa wound his tail around Morgana’s neck and looked over at the strange man curiously. To one side, Hunith went pale and clutched Gaius's arm. Oblivious to his mother’s predicament, Merlin began to step forward menacingly, but Arthur pushed past him, a steadying protective hand to Merlin’s chest.

“We know who you are, Balinor the Dragonlord. Your words no longer control any dragon. They belong to us now,” Arthur declared.

“Careful! He’s here to kill you and raze Camelot to the ground.” Merlin in turn moved to protect Arthur, raising his arms in threat towards Balinor. His eyes flashed, and his voice roared to the skies, “Kilgarrah , yperaspízontai.”

A shadow overtook the sun, and the Great Dragon descended like a tornado into the square, scattering the people back to the shadows and entryways. The stranger blinked, moved closer, and addressed Kilgarrah severely, hand outstretched with something in it. Some sort of fruit.

“Kilgarrah, to my side!” he called. Kilgarrah stretched his neck forward a little, eyes on the item in the man’s hand. “You! Little one!” he addressed Aithusa. “Be at peace and fly to me, your Dragonlord.” Morgana held him protectively closer.

“Oh,” said Merlin, upon seeing the fruit in the other man’s hand. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Kaeo Mangkon. He held it up to Kilgarrah. “Here, Uther got this for you.” Kilgarrah turned to look at him, pleased as punch. A great terrifying display of dragon teeth lit up his face.

“THIS is my master, I obey him now,” Kilgarrah spoke, his normal voice a rich rumble that cleaved the air. Aithusa wriggled excitedly, as if in agreement, and broke free of Morgana’s grasp to fly over and land next to Merlin.

“Nonsense! None but a Dragonlord or the offspring of a Dragonlord can command a dragon. I am the last. You will do as I bid, Kilgarrah.” Balinor’s face was dark with disapproval.

“You have no place here, your time has passed. Leave now, or we will destroy you,” threatened Merlin, drawing himself up tall and formidable, with the two dragons posturing suddenly beside him, wings out, necks curved in threat, and hissing. Arthur stood with them, fists on hips, impressive and menacing, a third dragon in Merlin’s thrall. 

A diminutive figure walked out into the midst of the altercation, and faced down the Court Sorcerer and his dragons.

“Son, don’t make this any more difficult than it already is,” said Hunith clearly and firmly.

“Mother, he’s an evil sorcerer and dragonlord who is trying to take revenge on Camelot. He has come here intending to destroy us all,” Merlin warned her, as she seemed to be moving closer to the strange man. “Come away, now!” The stranger now stared at Hunith, and then at Merlin, dumbstruck.

“Of course he didn’t come to destroy Camelot,” Hunith said. 

“No. I am here to restore dragons to their rightful place in the world. A place of honour and dignity. Not of captivity and slavery. Now that magic has been allowed to return....” Balinor suddenly did a double-take. “Wait. YOU are Emrys?” he said. “You are the Court Sorcerer?”

“AND Dragonlord, yes,” replied Merlin with hostility.

That was when Hunith marched over and smacked Merlin on the wrist.

“Ow! Mother! What?’ Merlin reverted to naughty little boy mode.

Balinor said, “I am your father.”

*****

“Well, how was I supposed to know?” Merlin was pouting and sighing into Arthur’s neck, who kept trying to push him off. They were holding a small banquet that evening, a sort-of reunion. Balinor and Uther were eying each other with skepticism. Hunith sat next to Balinor. They had exchanged a few words, and had promised each other to take things slowly. There was hope in both their hearts, though, for a future together. Balinor didn’t know what form his relationship with his son would take. He didn’t know what it was to have a son, but something wonderful stirred inside him. He could do this.

Morgana and Uther had a sleepy Aithusa in a basket near their feet, and Leon was keeping his fingers crossed that Uther would win the rights to keep the baby dragon overnight. Gaius was attempting to piece together the events that led up to all of this for Leon, but he didn’t feel it was working well judging by the bemused look on Leon’s face.

Kilgarrah was off and away, having a lovely evening flight in the fading sun, stretching his wings and surveying the land.

Merlin was simply overwhelmed, and sat closer to Arthur than was necessary, glancing timidly past his mother at Balinor every few seconds. (Arthur was generally pleased with Merlin leaning on him, although the sighs right under his ear were quite annoying.) Merlin more than anything just wanted this evening to be over so he could snuggle down in bed with Arthur and talk things through. Or just find *something* else to do to get his mind off everything. That would be good, too.

Talk turned to the royal wedding. Balinor shook his head again at the unconventional eccentric family he suddenly belonged to.

Hunith was explaining that she must head back to Ealdor right after the wedding next week, for the same reason she had not been able to attend Arthur’s coronation last month. Babies. She had a young midwife there that she was still working with, same as when Gaius had tutored her a long time ago. She promised she would move to Camelot when the ‘time’ came.

Uther looked at Arthur and Merlin significantly. “Grandchildren,” he mouthed. 

“Um...” Merlin started to speak, but Morgana suddenly piped up, shooting a quick look at Leon.

“We have some news to tell,” she said. “Leon and I are expecting!” There were cheers and congratulations all around. Morgana continued, “So you MUST be here for that, Hunith!”

“Well, you know I will, Morgana,” Hunith reassured her. She smiled sweetly, and Balinor squeezed her hand, which had somehow wound up in his. Would he stay in Camelot with Merlin, teaching him about Dragonlord responsibilites and traditions? Or would he follow Hunith back to Ealdor for the time being? He was undecided.

“Merlin’s pregnant,” Arthur dropped his own bombshell. Hunith squealed, and Morgana clapped. Everyone had to get up and trade hugs all around, careful not to jostle the baby that was already born. Balinor looked all puffed up, and Gaius nodded benevolently. 

But Uther...He looked like he was near to bursting out in tears, so Balinor and Gaius took him by either arm, alarmed.

“Oh, he’s just happy, it’s what he’s been anticipating,” said Arthur.

“I wish my child was going to have such wonderful doting grandparents,” Morgana smiled, sighing dramatically. She was not truly envious, because she knew these people all loved her very much.

“As a matter of fact...” began Uther.

THE END


End file.
